


on the very edge

by flowersforlukey



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, M/M, Pre-Thor (2011), Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 04:05:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18731269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforlukey/pseuds/flowersforlukey
Summary: “You must know that I love you,” Thor whispered, voice falling as if reserved for the very sanctuary they shared that were his chambers. “Even before I breathed, even before I spoke the word.”The night grew cold, and Loki’s pulse ached with angry seidr.“I’ve always known.”In the process of loving his own brother, Loki loses himself.





	on the very edge

**Author's Note:**

> Angst angst angst!
> 
> I'm back with guess what. well, ANGST!
> 
> I was very intrigued with Loki's behaviour around Heimdall. I've always pictured him as blunt and confident around the man who knew secrets hidden from sight. Especially the secrets Loki chooses to hide in his... well. Bed chambers.
> 
> This one-shot is also something I relate to entirely. Loki is me when I feel like I'm starting to lose myself in the process of loving someone too much.
> 
> Enjoy!

What he was feeling, Loki new not what it was.

Perhaps melancholy, a distinction between eventual frustration and growing numbness. An emptiness rooted so deeply in his chest he cannot seem to reach for it himself in hopes of knowing what has truly caused this shift of behaviour.

The sheets were warm around his waist, their very edges cascading over the tips of his toes. Loki pulled them up to his chin, suddenly reluctant to invite the biting wind.

It bothered him very little that he was just now growing sensitive of the cold.

Thor had looked so helpless back in his chambers, golden features folded in creases of dejection when Loki had spent the entirety of the afternoon sharing careful whispers with his brother under the falling daytime.

“It is indeed great effort," Thor had confessed, his palms clasped over his lap. "Finding you in the gardens, or anywhere else you may wander around… I cannot help but follow you to where you go.” Loki sat at the opposite end of the bed, waiting. “I know that you have asked me to keep my distance, but brother, you _must_ know, I-I… cannot.”

It took a lungful of air for Loki to shut his eyes in exasperation. The confession no doubt wired his heartstrings into an entangled mess, requiring his best effort to not break apart and scream all that is left from the patience he has long bottled up.

And Loki was a man of words that never gave in to the temptation of exposing his vulnerability. And no, especially not in front of his brother, _Thor_ , who was making it the best kind of difficult in talking out an answer from him to the one question Loki had nothing but his emotions to answer with.

_Why must you hold back from what is true, Loki?_

Loki did hold himself back from what was laid in front of him, but not without acceptable reasons that would be enough to turn Thor’s tracks around if _only_ the oaf listened.

But plainly speaking…

There was no plainly speaking with Thor. Thor wore his heart on his sleeve like the damn martyr he claimed to be, and it both angered and touched Loki because it was _Thor_ , and when Thor loved, he loved ferociously to no end and definitely under no petty conditions.

Which was exactly what angered Loki. That Thor only ever used his brain when professing his feelings, but never realizing what it must feel like for Loki, who had suffered centuries-long of negligence from their father and unceasing rivalry in the battlefield against the golden prince himself.

And his lies might be the first to be regarded, but Loki wished for the truth nonetheless; he loved Thor as he loved no other but would always find himself stuck between the pain inflicted by their history and the thrill from the life they shared now.

And having Thor completely without hindrance required Loki choosing which misfortune he’d rather endure, but there was just no in-between.

“I understand your desires, Thor,” he said, head spinning with distraught. “I’ve let you be with your feelings, but you must not forget about the line I’ve drawn as well. Putting up with this farce takes up too much from me, _brother_ , and I understand just as well how this must affect you too. You must not act so rash!”

“But Loki,” pleaded Thor. “You don’t understand how I much need you.”

Loki shook his head in dejection. This was too much.

“And you don’t understand how much it pains me so to be with you.”

When Thor’s face fell, it felt as if watching shards of glass part themselves in the slowest of trances, and Loki broke apart inside at every second Thor’s eyes twitched from held-back tears.

“You must know that I love you,” Thor whispered, voice falling as if reserved for the very sanctuary they shared that were his chambers. “Even before I breathed, even before I spoke the word.”

The night grew cold, and Loki’s pulse ached with angry seidr.

“I’ve always known.”

When Thor kissed him, it was with the promise that his heart would only ever be eased by the promise of Loki’s peace. Loki had understood everything he needed to know from his brother’s lips. _Felt_ it, wondered if there would ever be a time where the Norns would smile upon him once again and bless with him with another day to relive this moment.

 _There would be none,_ Loki thought and kissed back.

…

“My Prince,” Heimdall greeted, as regal as he’d always been, formalities spoken as required. Loki usually appreciated the effort of address as he was entitled to the respective regard, but he didn’t need that today, no. Today he needed a friend.

The Bifrost thrummed with life underneath his feet. How it always managed to react to the soles of his boots, Loki knew not. He prayed it was merely a glitch of his magic. A simple manner of giving life when all he's managed recently was bring death upon longing souls.

Loki’s cape fell behind as he stood stationary, both of his hands flat against his sides to conceal their involuntary shaking. Though what use would it be when Heimdall already knew all?

“Do you see everything?” Loki asked, voice a faint whisper. His eyes fell upon the towering city that stretched far into the sky.

“I see what is,” Heimdall answered, with a momentary pause that had Loki holding his breath. “I see what has been.”

_Of course._

“Then you must have seen.”

“And has spoke of nought.”

“Perhaps you might be _anxious_ to speak with the All-father.”

“I only speak of treason,” said Heimdall, and Loki's ears twitched.

“Is it not treason enough?” he asked, provoking. “The two princes in the house of Odin seeing to each others’ beds at nightfall with only the gatekeeper to bear witness? How _tragic_ it must be for you.”

“Indeed it is,” Heimdall confessed. “But it is no more tragic for me than it is comforting for you.”

Loki didn’t know what he was expecting from Heimdall, but it certainly wasn’t tolerance. As seconds went by he felt himself slowly falling apart. If only the whole universe could scream at him and swallow him into the void, Loki would be far more grateful than he had ever been in his whole life.

What would come out of it—the King's guardian knowing of Thor's confession, and Loki, his very own brother, rejecting his hand? The widespread uproar it would cause.

And Thor, who would be reduced to indignity, weakened by the mere knowledge of his own loss.

In another lifetime, Loki would cry in glee at his brother’s suffering. Seeing Thor tangled in his own anguish had been a novelty too precious to overlook back in his youth. But Loki was no longer exempted from the shift of his reality. Now though, Thor was vulnerable in the best way, and Loki felt _nothing_ but remorse.

“Your eyes,” Frigga pointed out, voice no more than a whisper for all the grief that held her back. “Dead inside. Might I ask what troubles you?”

It would be so easy to confess everything, to admit to treason as it was his own mother bringing upon his punishment. It would be easy, _too_ easy to forget the hurt that had flashed across Thor’s face when he was rejected, the deflation of his brother’s shoulders when Loki had left, and the unexpected tug he had felt in his own chest when Thor had kissed him farewell and left his sheets warm.

Now, watching the worry unveil in Frigga’s eyes, it would be too easy to let himself fall, to let go of the walls that he'd spent centuries putting up until he himself could no longer catch a glimpse of what was true.

“I attempted to uncoil the synthetic twines upon conjuring flames, but my hands merely succeeded in controlling the threads.” It was but an excuse, but Loki’s words held meaning all the same. “My palms grow cold, Mother. I cannot control my magic.”

Frigga’s frown only grew deeper.

...

“Ah.” The breach was almost sudden, leaving Loki on the verge of suffocating against tousled sheets, warm and soaked all the same.

Thor had buried himself into places which were unreachable before, but Loki had glowed with a whole new light, opening to Thor and refusing to just shut the chamber doors in his brother’s face, welcoming the crown prince instead with awaiting arms though uncertain, afraid.

They switched places, Thor now seated against the headboard and Loki working himself on his brother’s lap. The shift of angle ignited something within Loki's body that had him bouncing harder, jaw falling slack against Thor’s cheek as his breaths turned into a silent scream. Here, within Thor’s arms, everything felt too much.

And yet Loki craved and kept craving, and all he could do was give in.

“Oh, Thor,” he gasped, lips caught in a kiss that would bruise in the morn. Thor pulled at Loki’s chin, forcing his brother to see through his vision that nearly clouded with white.

“Take back what you said,” he pleaded, thrusting upward impossibly harder. Loki closed his eyes, refusing to look. If he did, he would be done for. “Take back  _every_ lie you spoke of, that you _cannot_ be with me _ _,__  even as you welcome me now.”

Loki growled, hands clawing around Thor’s neck, ready to squeeze if his brother's words begin provoking. “Do not be so arrogant.”

They switched positions again, Loki now lying on his back and Thor all over him, thrusting in just as quick as he fucked into his brother.

“You may lie about everything else.” Thor could barely hold on. Loki’s eyes were locked on him, because there was no one else, no one  _worthy_ enough. “But brother, please… you cannot lie about _this_.”

“To _hel_ with you!” Loki cried, hands fisting the sheets as Thor drove in hard. It was too good, _too_ good. “Fuck you, Thor. I fucking _hate_ you!”

Thor kissed him long and deep, and Loki came, shuddering with his brother’s name tainting his tongue and skin warm with strings of raw power.

That had silenced Loki’s anger. Thor. His own _brother _,__ Thor, would be the death of him.

…

“You are… conflicted, my Prince.”

“I was hoping it would not show on my face, but I see my usual methods have failed.”

Heimdall frowned, and Loki swore it was the first time he’d seen the man display any sort of raw emotion. Their friendship had not been as consistent as it should, had it been with Thor and his overly-enthusiastic demeanor, but Loki’s visits to the Bifrost Observatory had been growing much more frequent that he’d begun to question whether the gatekeeper had already sent word to Odin.

He’d been committing treason with the crown prince. How Heimdall seemed to overlook this was beyond Loki’s understanding.

“Your mother asks of you quite often. Apparently, your visits are not left unnoticed by the palace.”

Loki’s fingers dug into his palm. “And you willed yourself to speak of what you _see_?”

“Well, I did not take you for provoking, my Prince.”

“Why you choose to protect our treachery is beyond me,” said Loki, astonished. “You are no more virtuous than we are guiltless, dear Heimdall.”

“Indeed, my Prince, but it is not Odin whom I wish to protect you from.”

Loki blinked, staggering with his words. He did not anticipate this exchange.

“So who, pray tell, is this authority you speak of?”

“It is Thor, my Prince,” said Heimdall, his good pair of eyes fixing Loki with a look. “You wish to leave him so.”

“Speculation at best.”

“No, it is not.” Heimdall returned his gaze to the Bifrost. Loki kept his eyes locked on the gatekeeper. “I see it on your face. The longing, the twisting pain. The vengeance that courses through you very briefly when you look at him. And Thor… I admit he wishes to keep you grounded, but commitment alone goes against your very nature, Loki.”

Loki cannot breathe. He could see flashes of the way Thor had branded him the previous night, how Loki himself caved in but regretted the burn of empty promises afterwards.

“Indeed,” Loki said, only to spite the gatekeeper with his unwavering boldness. “And what are you to do with this certain… knowledge?”

“Nought,” answered Heimdall, effectively cutting Loki short of his breathing. “Until you are well, my Prince, until you have made peace with your true desires, the All-father will know nothing.”

“You _enrage_ me,” Loki spit, facing the gatekeeper as he pulsed with the bare anger over Thor and his rashness and the lust they now occasionally indulged. “Do not coddle me as I were but a child hiding behind the throes of my mistakes. I love Thor more than you could possibly perceive but I will not have you _doubting_  me or intervening."

“Then you will no longer have a life here, Loki,” said Heimdall. “You are the wisest to foresee how Thor would grow once he becomes king. And though you've admitted your sin, Thor is nowhere close to admitting _his _.__  You need to be freed, my Prince. I will have you freed.”

Despite the ice encasing his heart, Loki found Heimdall’s every word a sharp stab to his chest. He spoke of the truth, nothing more and nothing less, and only then did Loki arrive at a conclusion that the gatekeeper’s gift was not only limited to the burden of the All-sight.

He closed his eyes and in his own darkness he saw the lure of Thor’s smile, though this time it was not so promising. Whenever Thor smiled Loki shivered with the fear of pleasing his brother too much. He feared having to witness the walls close in on him until he was no more than a speck of dust that searched for the wind where it was nonexistent.

He loved Thor so very much that would die a willing death for him, had circumstances been different.

If only he could love Thor without having to lose himself as well, he would not have to do this.

“Open the Bifrost,” Loki said, his voice booming with every volume of a king’s command. He believed that in another lifetime, he would be suited to be a king of his own. “Tonight at nightfall. I will come as soon as I am able.”

Heimdall bowed to pay respect, and Loki now accepted the notion to trust this man with his fate.

“As my Prince commands.”

…

Thor’s message had arrived far later than Loki had expected.

_I have wronged you so to lead you to your disappearance. The kingdom is silent without your wisdom and I have grown tired from mother and father’s worries. I wished I had something to tell them, Loki, but what can I say when even I am left without knowledge of how much you despised the pain I had brought upon?_

Loki flicked through the leaves of papyrus, the tips of his fingers ablaze to set the words on fire.

_I have no place under your forgiveness, but would you grant me the least of your mercies to notify me should you return?_

Loki allowed himself the chance to read the words on the bottom of the page before burning the papers completely.

_Brother, I would love you better, have I the chance._

And the last couple ones as they reduced to ash.

_I miss you, Loki._

Despite the biting cold surging through his blood vessels, even the howling winds of Jotunheim failed to put out the fire burning inside him.

It had been decades since he left and Loki longed for Thor every day all the same. He needed his brother, but without him, Loki wasn’t _nothing_ , so he survived, lived in the assurance of his heart’s healing even though it guaranteed nothing like the love Thor had effortlessly made him feel throughout their lives.

Without Thor, Loki grew cold to the rest of the world but developed a certain sense of protection over himself. Because with Thor, he felt like he was risking everything, and nothing about that felt _safe._

And indeed, Loki loved no other but the very idea of submitting himself to someone was a death he would, in no realm possible, be willing to die.

“As I have missed you, Thor.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think? Kudos and feedback will be highly appreciated! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Come find me as [@shattered-loki](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shattered-loki) on tumblr to catch my fic updates!


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